Ace Attorney Reformed
by Blue Teller
Summary: ...what if DL-6 happened differently? How would it affect the story and the characters? Let's retell Ace Attorney, and see what was going on behind the scenes of DL-6 incident, while sticking to the majority of original plot! Nothing more than great feels and story!
1. Prologue

_DL-6 Investigation, December, 28th 2001…_

"Chief Detective, you're here already!" John Blake, the homicide detective of the precinct, exclaimed with relief. He was a tall, buff man, with a short black beard and a weakness for sweets, which was slowly started to show. His friends used to warn that he would gain weight if he didn't go on a diet soon.

"…Just how did you manage to get here so fast?" He added, glancing at his watch dubiously. Three minutes was indeed a very short time, considering that the Chief was practically at the other side of the city when he called her.

"Took a shortcut. I had to see this… When I heard who was the victim…" She responded, and the man nodded in understanding. "Poor Gregory…" She shook her head sadly. "Why him, of all people?"

However, she was no person to waste time on grieving - not anymore, anyway. She'd been through it, once, afterwards she promised herself she would never give in to grief. There was a killer of her friend that needed to be found.

"The murder weapon?" She asked matter-of-factly.

"A standard pistol." John Blake replied. "Belonged to one of the unconscious survivors."

"Hmm…" She pondered for a moment. "I don't have enough information about them. Detective Blake, would you fill me in please?"

"What do you want to know, Chief?"

"First. How many survivors we have? And second. Who exactly are they?"

"Two. One of them is a bailiff, whom we immediately identified as Yanni Yogi. The other's just a kid, presumably the victim's son… They're both in the hospital now and haven't woken up yet."

"Gregory would never carry a gun with him, especially with his son around… so it must belong to the bailiff." The Chief concluded aloud. "Seems simple enough. And yet, you called me. What's the problem?"

"You see, Chief…" Detective Blake rubbed his forehead. He looked very tired and confused. "There is something very, very strange about all of this."

"Strange? Found some dubious clues on the scene?"

"It's quite the opposite, Chief. We… we've found almost nothing!"

"Almost nothing?" She repeated with curiosity. "Please elaborate, detective."

John Blake coughed and started reciting the list he made in his mind beforehand.

"First, we examined the pistol. The ballistics markings on the bullet we took from the victim's heart confirmed that it was, in fact, the murder weapon." The lab results returned exceptionally quickly today, considering the circumstances. "But the gun is perfectly clean. There are no fingerprints on it." He emphasized: "**None** whatsoever."

"You mean 'If the bailiff really shot him, why were there no fingerprints'? But that's easy." She shrugged. "He could have cleaned them off."

"He also had no motive… They both worked here, the victim and the bailiff, but they didn't know each other. They've never ever spoke. It's a confirmed information from other bailiffs."

"Who knows?" She shrugged again, still not seeing what the problem was. "They were stuck together for approximately five hours. That's plenty of time to find a motive."

John Blake sighed. He had suspected his doubts would be quickly tossed aside, although he hoped that at least the Chief would hear him out. Which was one of the reasons why he called her specifically. Undeterred, he continued:

"Still… There is also that boy… He was very close to the gun in question."

"So? I think the fastest way to prove the bailiff's guilt is to get the autopsy…" She was already two steps ahead, giving instructions. "I recommend to especially make tests for the victim's blood. If he was killed within the five hours before the oxygen run out, that'll instantly prove that the bailiff shot him."

"We do have the tests back. And he was oxygen deprived too, but-"

"That's even better! If they were suffocating, it's obvious he'd fight for survival…"

"But Chief!" The detective tried to get her attention back. "The boy! Her was _right next to the gun_!"

"You stated before that there were no fingerprints on the weapon." The Chief narrowed her eyes, glaring at Blake.

"Well, y-yes…" He stuttered, not enjoying that look.

"Then why would you suggest that the boy could have shot his father, Detective?!" She crossed her arms in a displeased manner. "How old is this boy, anyway?"

"Well…" He gulped before giving a reply. "About… nine years old?"

"So let me get this straight. You are proposing that an nine-year-old, in addition _the son of the victim_, took the gun, shot his father, wiped off the fingerprints clean, and then took a nap next to the pistol?!" She exclaimed, her voice progressively getting louder. Soon she was downright yelling at him. "And you suggest that person was **Gregory's boy**?! Brilliant! Wait, no,** that is the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard! You have **_**some**_** ideas, detective!**"

"S-Sorry, Chief…" The addressed stepped back in caution. Hard to blame him, the Chief could be quite intimidating.

She instantly stopped and took a hold of herself. _I'm getting all worked up again… _She thought, whipping off drops of sweat from her forehead.

Then she looked back at the detective, who looked like a scared rabbit ready to flee to its hole. It was the sight of his face that made her deeply embarrassed of herself. _I have to start working on it. _She thought for a thousandth time. It was much simpler said than done.

"Well… ahem." She coughed.

For some reason, 'I'm sorry' couldn't pass through her throat. Admitting to herself she got issues, and admitting it to the detective under her - those were two different things.

"Anyway… Is there something else you would like to address?"

Blake, seeing that she calmed herself, took a deep breath, then continued.

"Well… There's one other thing. It's regarding where the murder occurred."

"Where? Didn't it happened in the elevator?"

"Yes, no doubt about it… The question is, on which _floor_ the shooting happened." He explained. "After the power was cut off, it could have stopped anywhere…"

"But you're investigating here." The Chief looked around. "We're in the evidence room, right?"

"Yes."

"Was the elevator discovered here?"

"…no."

"…?"

"The man who informed us of the murder, he tried to get in one floor below us."

"And, do you suspect him?"

"No, because he has airtight alibi. Also, his discovery was _after_ the power returned. As long as the electricity was off, no one could get inside the elevator…"

"…which only makes the timeframe of the murder tighter." Finished the Chief.

"Exactly."

"Then tell me why we're here, detective Blake. In the evidence room, I mean."

"If you could please look at the inner elevator door…" He said thoughtfully. The detective stepped next to the open elevator (shut down for the investigation), grabbed the right part of its door and pulled it out forcefully.

"See anything of interest?" He asked, glancing at his superior almost bashfully.

Chief of Investigations leaned forward and carefully examined it. She touched one visible mark on the metal with her gloved hand.

"There's a hole here." She stated the obvious.

"Right." Blake now proceed to opening the second door, the one that blocked the entrance to the elevator's tunnel when the lift wasn't in the place. "You see…?"

"It's completely…" The Chief blinked in surprise. "…trashed! How did this happen?"

"We don't know… we don't even know if it has anything to do with the case…"

"But obviously it still bothers you, detective."

"Ehem." Blake coughed. "Considering the circumstances. There's a murder in an elevator, with a pistol. And a hole in the door. So we figured it must be a bullet hole. At least, that's what we thought…"

"You 'thought'…? In other words, you found evidence contradicting the bullet hole?"

"L-like I told you, Chief… that's not what the problem is." Detective Blake was puzzled himself. "Instead of having a piece of evidence that doesn't match… we… we're lacking… the bullet."

"The bullet?" The Chief lifted her eyebrows.

"Except the hole, there is no evidence it even exists, Chief… This is what really bothered me when I started to examine the crime scene." Confessed the detective. "It can't possibly be the same bullet that hit the victim, because we found it inside the man's heart. And he must have been in the elevator during the murder. The blood tests you asked about, they revealed he definitely suffered oxygen deprivation as well as the other two. And the hole was made definitely from the inside, not the outside."

"I see… That is curious indeed, except…" She made a pause.

Blake watched her thinking intensely, holding his breath while waiting for the final verdict. After a long pause, unable to stop his own curiosity, he asked:

"W-well, Chief?"

"Except…" She looked back at him and smiled knowingly. "…it doesn't really change anything."

Detective Blake blinked in surprise. For a moment he wondered if he had heard her wrong. But her expression assured he really had not.

"What do you mean, Chief?" The Detective frowned displeased as he waited for an explanation. After another moment of silence, he inquired: "Do you know what happened to the bullet?"

"…No." She shook her head. "However. There were three people inside the elevator. The victim, the shooter, and a witness. From the evidence gathered, it should be painfully obvious who is who."

"B-But Chief…" He stammered, losing confidence. "What about the bullet hole? And the outside elevator door? Are we going to just…?"

"What if it wasn't a bullet hole?" The Chief smirked. She slid a loose bang behind her ear and explained: "Are there even gunpowder traces there? Couldn't it be made before the murder occurred? Just because we have a gun on the scene, it doesn't necessarily mean that has to be the tool used, detective. Perhaps one of the survivors made the hole in attempt of getting some air? True, someone did damage the outside door, but it could be just a coincidence. It's not certain a bullet passed through this door at all. We won't know until we question the boy and the bailiff."

Seeing his disbelieving face, she asked: "Really, detective, haven't you heard about 'red herring'? We just survived an earthquake! A part of this building collapsed completely, and one broken door is confusing you?"

The detective opened his mouth, then closed it, having nothing to say. Truly, he hadn't considered this possibility. She was right: until they had cross-examined all the individuals involved, it wouldn't be possible to determine what happened. The evidence was just too vague to decide right now.

"Is there anything else, detective?" The Chief of Investigations turned around, ready to leave - not because she didn't care. It was just… her. Always busy, always in a rush. There was already a checklist in her head, where to go and what to investigate next. "Any other witnesses, any unidentified fingerprints? Have you yet analyzed the footprints on the floor?"

"There's a problem with the last two, Chief…" The detective scratched the beard. "We have estimated that almost seventy people use this particular elevator about twice a day. With so many prints, analyzing them all seems utterly pointless…"

"Of course, you're right. Then all we have left are the survivors." She summed up, nodding. She sent the fellow detective a formal, but reassuring look. "I wish to personally question the boy as soon as he wakes up."

"Understood, Chief Fey." John Blake saluted enthusiastically, glad that he at least managed to get her involved in the investigation.

With that, Misty Fey left to the hospital.

* * *

><p>DL-6…<p>

A strange case indeed. The sore circumstances of this murder were very unusual.

After a powerful earthquake struck in Los Angeles, it cut off the electricity in the main part of the city. It was a tragic day for many. About 15 people lost their lives in ruble and car crashes. But DL-6's victim was an entirely different case.

The strongest vibrations occurred near the city's courthouse, causing one of the courtrooms to collapse. Fortunately, no one was inside it while it happened, but there were three people using an elevator at the time. Unknown for anybody, the lift stopped, trapping them inside.

Almost five hours after the quake the rescuers came. Their negligence was fully justified. Not only the entire police force was spread thin, struggling with apprehending the chaos in the city, but the "prisoners" of the elevator where discovered only after the electricity came back, by an accident.

There seemed to be a problem with the ventilation system of the elevator, which was caused by the earthquake itself. The people, locked in for such a long time, suffered oxygen deprivation and became unconscious as the result.

But the real problem was that one of the men was shot! There was a fatal wound, deadly bullet in his heart. The angle made it impossible to be a suicide. It only could have been murder. The victim's ID card confirmed him to be a criminal defense lawyer.

Due to significant doubts regarding identity of the killer, the lead detective decided to contact one of the higher-ups. Mr. John Blake he called was LA's Chief of Investigations, Misty Fey herself, and he requested her to come to the scene of the crime.

Mrs. Fey examined the scene and decided the murderer had to be the bailiff, Yanni Yogi. Afterwards, she questioned the only witness, victim's son, for a long time. She couldn't get anything out of him, so the police department decided to rely on the evidence. The gun used to shoot the defense attorney was Mr. Yogi's gun. It seemed enough for proof, along with the fact that there were **only three people** on the scene of the crime.

However…

* * *

><p><em>DL-6 Trial, January 19th, 2002…<em>

"My client is in no condition to testify, Your Honor." Defense attorney Robert Hammond declared with an arrogant, smug look on his face. "The oxygen deprivation caused a severe damage to his brain. Not only did he lose his memory of the incident, he no longer knows who he is. Calling him to the stand would be a waste of time."

"I see…" The judge nodded, reading the medical report of Mr. Yogi's condition. "What is the prosecution's opinion on this matter?"

Mr. Ian S. Pecked was silent for a long moment. His eyes slid through the faces of the audience in the gallery.

There was she, Chief of Investigation Misty Fey, looking at him sternly. Certain impatience was coming from her, as if she was trying to say: "come on, man! Do your job, put that murderer behind bars already, he deserves it!". Another woman, Polly Jenkins, the accused's fiancée, sobbed silently into her handkerchief. Her hair was a mess, mascara smudged all over her face. It was tragic to see the woman, who normally put so much care into her appearance, in such condition. She seemed as if the world has ended for her and the only thing left, was despair. Not too far away sat Mr. Blake, the detective, serious and lost in thought. On the other side of the gallery a small boy, who seemed out of place, curled up, hugging his legs in a defensive position. Lonely and broken, his eyes focused on the floor. Just like Ms. Jenkins, he looked like he had lost everything.

There was so much hurt… So much damage.

Then the prosecutor proceed to the judge, not extremely bright, but nice fellow, being fickle as usual. Next was the defense attorney… Mr. Robert Hammond. Just looking at him was making Mr. Pecked cringe. Yes, he has met him before, and had every reason to dislike him. A selfish, spoiled brat, was too mild of a description. Mr. Hammond had skills though, it's a fact that couldn't be denied.

Finally, the prosecutor fixed on the accused. Mr. Yanni Yogi, a courtroom bailiff till recently. He looked… absolutely horrible. His eyes were red, shoulders slumped, expression empty. He was the very definition of misery.

"I think that…" After the moment of hesitation, prosecutor Pecked said: "…it is truly no use to question Mr. Yogi. We have already cross-examined the victim's son, and he has been proven to have no recollection, either."

The boy, sitting in the gallery, lifted his eyes. They were filled with various emotions, deep and dark, horrifying to see on such a young face. The prosecutor couldn't look into those eyes for more than two seconds. He turned away to the judge, now speaking:

"What's the prosecution's suggestion then? You have barely any evidence against the defendant."

The prosecutor stated slowly:

"Considering the lack of evidence, and the accused's current condition… I believe it is my only option to drop all the charges against the defendant."

A storms of whispers passed through the courtroom.

"What does he mean, 'drop all charges'?! The bailiff's obviously guilty!"

"What kind of prosecutor is he?"

"Who cares that the guy's insane? I bet he's faking it, just to get off the hook!"

Ian Pecked listened to the gallery's protests unmoved, with a still, calm expression on his face. Meanwhile, Mr. Hammond stared at him incredulously. And so did the judge.

"Excuse me, but did I hear you right? Did you just say you want to drop the case?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

The defense finally got over his shock and straightened up, victorious. "Well, naturally! Even the prosecution sees how pointless this is. Now, Your Honor, may you please deliver your verdict?"

"Very well…"

"What?!" A woman's voice shouted from the gallery. It belonged to Mrs. Fey, who was tightening her fists in helpless anger. "They can't be serious!"

She wasn't the only one.

"You're just letting him go?! He did it, I know he did!" Screamed the victim's son. "He has to _pay_!"

"Mr. Yanni Yogi, is hereby declared…"

_**NOT GUILTY**_

The judge banged his gavel.

"But it's wrong…! This is so **wrong**!"

The prosecution left the courtroom shortly afterwards, trying to ignore the defense attorney's triumphal look, as well as the disapproving or accusing eyes of the audience. There was especially one face, that made the prosecutor inwardly tremble.

Mr. Pecked sighed in relief when he finally found himself alone in the prosecutor's lobby. Those eyes… the little boys' eyes. He couldn't get them out of his mind. There was so much hurt in them, and betrayal.

But the prosecutor did what he had to do, even if they didn't understand. They all said that Mr. Yogi did it, and it seemed like it, but…

Mr. Pecked pressed his fingers against the forehead, thinking hard.

* * *

><p>Robert Hammond, the defense attorney, managed to win the case without much effort. The prosecution was said to fail horribly at their task. No one was found guilty. Prosecutor Pecked's reputation was ruined by DL-6 case.<p>

But…

…even after the trial, it was far from over.

Six months later, another accident involving people of DL-6 occurred, named **NC-4**. And if DL-6 was a scarring experience for everybody, then **NC-4**… was one as well, to say the least. Although **NC-4** wasn't an unsolved case, like DL-6.

But back then, no one knew… Just like the earthquake struck and brought down the courthouse's walls, this murder made countless lives collapse. Lives of defense attorneys, prosecutors, detectives, courtroom bailiffs, and even their relatives…

**NC-4** became the cause of new, three-day court system, introduced in California by the end of year 2002. No matter how many people were against it, the people holding power deliberately made the decision that would be most convenient for those who wanted to escape judgement.

For fifteen years, DL-6 remained unsolved… Until one day, a certain defense attorney solved it all, with the help of few other individuals. And it was his effort that released tormented souls from the darkness surrounding both DL-6 _and_ **NC-4**.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**The Chief on Investigation, that is, the leader of detectives… is Misty Fey! Didn't see that coming did you? C:**

**(She isn't "The Chief of Police", because that would make people associate her with Damond Gant, and that's not what I'm going for. I tried to make it clear that Misty is neither a bad or stupid detective, but mislead.)**

**Well this is the premiss of this story in a nutshell. It involves most of the plot from first Ace Attorney game, but I'm gonna throw in a few twists.**

**Misty Fey here isn't a spirit medium. None of the Feys are mediums. In fact, characters that appear later in the series, like Pearls, Morgan, Dahlia or Iris don't exist in this universe.**

…**Uuuh, u mad bro? Don't be though, it's gonna be fun, promise.**

**Here you're introduced to two out of three of the OC's I placed in the story. Sorry, sorry, I know how much people hate OC's! But let me explain.**

**John Blake was a character I absolutely had to create in order explore DL-6. He's used instead of Grossberg as the exposition spammer later on. Sorry for having an opinion (:P), but I don't really like Grossberg. He's… not that funny, and there isn't more to him than that. He's character development extends to the fact that Redd White blackmailed him and he knew Maya's mother. I don't find that interesting.**

**But I promise I'll try to make detective John Blake interesting! I loathe Mary-Sues just like everyone else. He's going to have a role and occasionally be the focus, but only from time to time.**

**The second OC is Ian S. Pecked (horrible pun, I know. **_**Sue**_** me! xD), the prosecutor of DL-6. Sorry, but I can't say more than he's going to be important for my case, NC-4. What is NC-4, you ask?**

**One word… *whisper* …MYYYSTERYYYY…! :D It's gonna be important, you'll see. I didn't make Misty the Chief for no reason, you know!**

**Ah, I almost forgot, this story is mostly about Edgeworth. Big surprise, right? :3 Ah, whatever, everyone loves Edgeworth anyway, he's awesome. But seriously, he's the best character beside Phoenix and Maya. I just HAD to make him the focus.**

**So you guys better stick around, cause… it's gonna be fun! ;)**

**(I know referring to the Edgeworths as "the victim" and "the boy" is pointless, everyone knows who they are anyway, but keeping it in the dark is so cool! MYYYSTERYYYY…!)**


	2. Fifty five, Another Message, Sender Past

"…_I wanted to meet him, to know why he had become who he became._

_I tried to get in touch with him, I don't know how many times…_

_He never replied."_

* * *

><p>It was an ordinary, boring, paperwork filling day. Miles Edgeworth, a young, brilliant prosecutor wearing a read coat and ancient-looking, white cravat, was sitting in front of his desk, checking every page with professional carefulness. Unlike other prosecutors, who rushed through the papers to have everything done as quickly as possible, he was known for his systematic work. He made sure everything was done on time, perfectly.<p>

Looking through his morning mail, which usually only consisted of reports and records, he noticed something peculiar. It was an informal-appearing, white letter, from quite unexpected sender.

"Phoenix Wright?" Prosecutor Edgeworth read, confused. It took him a moment to remember who the name belonged to. "Huh. Why would he write to me all of the sudden?" He wondered aloud while examining the envelope.

At first, Mr. Edgeworth intended to open it, just out of curiosity. Then he hesitated as his eyes glanced at files piling up on his desk. _Maybe later_, he thought, putting the letter inside bottom drawer of the desk.

Ten minutes later, he would completely forget about it.

* * *

><p>It would probably stay there forever, forgotten… if another letter hadn't arrived. One month hadn't passed when it suddenly showed up.<p>

"This reminds me of something… It's the second one, isn't it?" Mr. Edgeworth muttered and began searching through the drawer.

Soon he found the first letter and held both in his hand. For some reason, he was reluctant to open either of them. He knew he shouldn't read the new one without acknowledging the former, and (Edgeworth looked on his paperwork for the next trial) he doubted he had time for both… So…

_I'll get to it when I have time._ Miles Edgeworth shrugged and put the old envelope back inside the drawer, along with the new one.

* * *

><p>Stay in the drawer they did, since prosecutor Edgeworth - as he considered himself - was a very busy man indeed.<p>

The paperwork itself took a lot of time, but not only that, Edgeworth was getting literally case after case, one harder than the other. To say that he was doing his job effectively, would be an understatement: he never lost a trial in his career. He quickly earned himself reputation of a genius, and got quite rich and famous.

Well, _infamous_ in some circles. Some people were spreading grim rumors about him.

"The Demon Attorney", that's what the papers called him. They claimed he had been using illegal methods to maintain his perfect winning record, like evidence-forging, manipulating witnesses and their testimonies, bribes… truly, not all of the accusations were completely amiss…

Edgeworth didn't care though. The only issue he was truly concerned with, was to get every single defendant a guilty verdict. He hated criminals with burning passion. No accused would escape on **his** watch, he made sure of that - with all means possible.

The letters from certain "Phoenix Wright" kept coming in, but just like all inconveniences, Edgeworth chose to simply ignore them. Storing them in the bottom drawer of his office desk became part of his routine like everything else in life. Edgeworth never opened or read any of them. Why?

_Because I am a very busy man_, Edgeworth though each time an envelope was hidden away from his sight. _I have no time for such nonsense_.

* * *

><p>One day, to his great astonishment, prosecutor Edgeworth discovered that the letters could no longer fill inside the drawer. It was soon after the anniversary of the day when the first letter arrived in the prosecutor's office. At the peak of his curiosity, Edgeworth started pulling them out to count the amount.<p>

_Ten… fifteen… twenty… twenty five…_

He suddenly got anxious. The number was just getting bigger and bigger… A strange realization struck him, that he had never replied to Phoenix Wright and yet, he just kept sending more.

_Forty… forty five…_

Looking through the dates, there had been a new letter almost every week. The final number filled Miles Edgeworth with dread:

_Fifty… three._

**Fifty three… letters!?**

_What would people think if they've seen this?_ He thought, cold sweat trickling down his forehead. But that was not just why he became concerned. For now he knew exactly WHY he never read the letters, the true reason.

Phoenix Wright wasn't an important person for Edgeworth, he barely remembered him. But what he did remember, was always connected to another part of his life… the old life, which the prosecutor wished to abandon.

He tried, he put every drop of energy into this sole purpose. But he remained unsuccessful. It kept coming back to him, almost every night, in nightmares. All Miles Edgeworth wanted was to forget… why was it so hard then? He couldn't even enjoy Christmas season. So he chose this specific time to do ten times more work than usual.

Ah, work. The best painkiller Edgeworth had even known. It was so simple! Doing things, being busy, instead of sitting around and thinking. The perfect escape from the stubbornness of mind.

…and now his peaceful bliss was interrupted, by a random person from his childhood.

He couldn't understand why the past chose to haunt him, again, and so relentlessly, in such a strange way. But Wright and his persistence didn't matter. What mattered was that Edgeworth had enough. He wanted to end this, he wanted to get rid of the letters.

But how? There were** fifty three** of them! How would he dispose of such number without trace or witnesses? There was only one way…

People don't usually come to their office in the middle of a Saturday night, which was the reason why Edgeworth chose to to do exactly that. It was more than certain that the Prosecutors Office would be completely empty - the perfect opportunity to evade unwanted attention.

* * *

><p>He sneaked to the entrance and pulled out the key out of his pocket. In such circumstances, it's easy to imagine why Miles Edgeworth almost jumped out of his skin when he suddenly heard a deep voice behind his back:<p>

"Such a strange time for you to be here."

But even seriously freaked out Edgeworth wouldn't lose his head. Instantly he pulled himself together and did what he would do in court. _When your opponent asks you something and you don't have an answer… turn his own argument against him!_

"I could say the same about you…" He turned around to face… the last person he expected to see. "…**Chief Blake**?"

"And good evening to you, Miles." The Chief of Investigations nodded in greeting.

Edgeworth narrowed his eyes, resentful. He could barely see the man in the dark surroundings: with all the lights in the building switched off, the only source of light was the street lamppost outside the window. But even with little light, prosecutor Edgeworth would recognize this man anywhere. He was in mid forties, tall, wide in shoulders and belt. He wore a black suit with a black tie and black fedora on equally black hair, perfectly split in the middle. In addition he had a short black beard, with few white hair mixed in, which matched his perfectly plain, light shirt, and a pair of opaque brown eyes. It was hard to confuse him with anybody else.

"It's _prosecutor_ _Edgeworth_, thank you very much, Chief Blake." The prosecutor snorted, squinting to see better, and to show annoyance. "Why are you even here?"

"I believe I asked first." John Blake remained undeterred. "What are doing here at this hour… prosecutor?"

"It's none of your concern." Edgeworth replied sharply. "But why are **you** here? You don't even work here. This is prosecutor's office."

"It appears neither of us is going to answer this question, huh?" Chief Blake smirked for a second, before his face fell, as he remembered his own reasons. "Nevertheless, I'm glad we bumped into each other… prosecutor Edgeworth." He was careful enough not to say 'Miles' again. Getting him angrier was the opposite of what he was aiming for. "I was wondering, if you have a minute-"

"Unfortunately, this isn't the time, Chief Investigator." The prosecutor immediately cut him off. "I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave."

"…"

"…"

An awkward silence. None of them moved.

"…"

"…"

"…"

Blake hesitated, he looked like he wanted to say something.

"…"

"…"

"…?"

The prosecutor narrowed his eyes and lifted one eyebrow in anticipation.

"…"

"_**Get on with it!**_" Edgeworth snapped.

"It's just… You said the same thing last five ti-"

"Goodnight, Chief Blake."

***SLAM!***

Prosecutor Edgeworth finally entered his office and slammed the door right into the senior detective's face.

Chief of Investigations sighed.

"Why won't he listen?" He whispered.

He still remembered Miles as the smiling little boy, who used to jump with excitement around the courthouse. When did he turn into this cold, emotionless tool of judgement, caring about nothing but his work?

John Blake slowly walked upstairs, drowning in the guilt and depression that has escalated inside him over the years._ What have I done…?_ _I failed everyone… Everyone who have ever trusted me… And now, I can't fix this mess anymore…_

Indifferent and unaware of the Chief's recollections, Edgeworth carefully put all of the letters in a plastic bag, stepped outside the office, locked the door and snuck back through the hallway. He thought one else beside John Blake had spotted him…

…However, there was a pair of unfriendly eyes, hidden in the shadow, observing the prosecutor closely. Edgeworth not only didn't notice the person, but in his nervousness and eagerness to leave, he dropped one envelope out of the bag he was carrying. The one lone letter from Phoenix Wright, addressed to Miles Edgeworth, had been left behind. The shadowy figure picked it up and slipped into the pocket.

When he arrived home, Edgeworth threw all the letters into the fireplace. His decision only strengthened as he grabbed the lighter. He watched with relief while the envelopes caught on fire, one by one.

They were still trying to get through to him: Phoenix Wright, John Blake… Their ignorance was preventing them from understanding the fact that Edgeworth was no longer the same weak, foolish boy they remembered. Prosecutor Edgeworth and little kid Miles were two different people. He was now a serious person, occupied with plenty of responsibilities. He no longer had time for idle chatting, especially with those who didn't directly work with him. Basically, he **grew up**, unlike those two imbeciles, who apparently treated him like nothing had changed. The past's in the past, and it's going to stay there, just like it's supposed to!

With this conviction, when the fire had died, Miles Edgeworth went straight to bed… only to relive the past in his dreams.

* * *

><p>By some remarkable coincidence, no more letters arrived after that. It was what the prosecutor had hoped for, of course… but it was so convenient, it began to seem suspicious.<p>

Had Phoenix Wright finally understood the meaning of his silence? Why did he stop writing just now? Quite against himself, Edgeworth got worried.

However, it didn't take much time to make it clear that Wright had not given up yet.

Miles Edgeworth was checking his electronic mail and discovered a message from an unknown sender: '_TheBlueSuit _'. The prosecutor was a little surprised, because his mail address was strictly confidential. He never passed it to strangers. At first, Edgeworth was inclined to think it was an advertisement for business suits, but he quickly dispelled the idea, seeing that the first line stated:

_Mr. Miles Edgeworth (I really hope I got the right address this time)…_

It potentially could be something important. In any case, it's worth checking, the prosecutor decided. Edgeworth opened it, and froze, after reading the next five words:

_It's me again, Phoenix Wright, I…_

"**G-GAH!**" Edgeworth immediately closed the message and with a shaking hand, added the sender to 'Spam' list. When he was done, he sighed with relief like he just threw a scorpion outside the window. He was too close to actually reading this one!

"Is this person obsessed or **what**?!" Edgeworth grumbled, still a little shaken. "And **where** did he even **get** this address?"

He shut down the computer and calmed down as returned to work. It was just the right thing to keep his mind away from the topic.

* * *

><p>Edgeworth didn't know if Wright continued to send him e-mails or not. He simply couldn't see them, as all the messages from that sender were classified as 'Spam'. Nor did the prosecutor care, as long as he had peace from both Wright and Blake - and neither ever bothered him again. Well, except one more time…<p>

* * *

><p>"This one case is easy, sir! We just finished up the autopsy report and there's no doubt he killed her! The victim was shot with his own riffle, sir!" Excited detective of name Dick Gumshoe passed the autopsy to the prosecutor, smiling proudly.<p>

"Very good, detective. What about the fingerpri-" Edgeworth's question was interrupted with a call from his office phone. "Hold on a second, Gumshoe."

Prosecutor picked up the phone and said routinely: "Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth's office."

"H-hello… Mr. Edgeworth." Said an unfamiliar, male voice. "It's… Phoenix Wright here."

Edgeworth instantly stiffened. His eyes slid aside, fixing on the detective. Instead of answering, prosecutor pressed his lips in a tight line.

"You see, I really need to talk with yo-"

***SLAM!***

Edgeworth forcefully placed the phone down before Wright could finish the sentence. Gumshoe jumped up, startled.

"What was it, sir?" He asked, puzzled with the prosecutor's action.

"Prank call. What about the fingerprints on the riffle…?" Edgeworth spoke perfectly calm as if nothing happened.

"Mr. Edgeworth…?"

He silenced Gumshoe with one cold glare.

"**Proceed**, detective. If you want your salary to remain with more than _two_ digits, that is."

Detective Gumshoe hastily elaborated, allowing Edgeworth to keep his thoughts far from that annoying person as possible… For the time being.

* * *

><p>Since that last call, Miles Edgeworth didn't receive any new messages from Wright in any form, for months. <em>He must have finally understood I want nothing to do with him…<em> He decided.

But deep down, he knew he was fooling himself only to provide his mind comfort…

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Yup, they actually mentioned that Phoenix tried to contact Edgeworth many times. I always wondered what Edgeworth thought about it. So here you go! This one is a very short chapter, most are going to be much longer than this.**

**If you wonder who gave Phoenix Edgeworth's e-mail adress... Just think, who tends to give all _top secret_ information away from the prosecutors to defense attorneys...? Rings any bell?**

**Anyway, I'm going to follow one person's feelings and thoughts for a section, keeping third person's perspective. Here you have Edgeworth and he's going to be the main focus. Others are gonna be: Maya (sometimes), Gumshoe (occasionally), Mia (twice, two next chapters), Blake (few times) aaaaand… a couple of surprises! ;) I won't do Phoenix though. The game did that already.**

**I hope you guys are starting to like Blake at least a little bit. Wait for chapter 8 and you'll find out what he's all about. Why did I call him like that? Well, two reasons. One, I wanted a plain, meaningless name in contrast to "Ian S. Pecked", my horrifyingly lame pun. Two… "The Dark Knight Raises" xD Oh, _come on_! Everyone is making Frozen references, why can't I make one from a different film? Nobody's gonna notice anyway.**

**BTW, you better remember the "shadowy figure" that took the lost letter. It's gonna come back, but much, **_**much**_** later on.**

**I can't wait, it's gonna be so fun! The big majority of the story is going to be Ace Attorney game's script with minor changes, and the script is an awesome story itself! I'm merely putting it in a novel-like style.**

**(I didn't just "copy-paste" ****all ****stuff though. ****A**** part of it, ****yes,**** but believe me when I say I spent HOURS writing this thing down from "Let's Play" Youtube videos, because I needed proper reactions from the sprites too… It was tough -_-)**

**Please read on and enjoy! :)**


	3. Mentor and her Protégé

The phone rang loudly with high, piercing sound. The woman sitting next to the table picked up instantly, unwilling to listen to its unpleasant tone a second longer than it was necessary.

"Fey and Co. Law Offices, how can I help you?" She said.

"A-are you, um, d-d-defense attorney Mia F-Fey?" Stuttered a male voice.

"Yes, Mia Fey speaking."

"Ms. F-Fey, uh, c-could I… um… ask for a-an ap-p-p-pointment?" The man on the other side was obviously nervous beyond himself. Also the words he spoke felt unnatural, like they were read or recited… which wouldn't be that surprising.

"Oh, but of course!" She replied, grabbing a pen to make a quick note. "So, you're in need of a defense attorney, Mr…?"

"O-Oh! Right! I forgot to introduce m-myself, didn't I? Heh…" Said the flustered man rhetorically. The rustling sound let her know he was clearing his throat in attempt to calm down - and it apparently failed. "My n-name's Weenix Fright… Wait, no, t-that's **not what I meant**! It's Phoenix Wright… And… Well, no, uh, a-actually…"

"When would you like to make an appointment, Mr… Fright, was it?" Asked Mia politely, patiently giving him time find right words.

"Ahem, s-sorry, it's supposed to be 'Wright'. Ya k-know, like the flying brothers…?"

"Oh, excuse me."

"And, uh, I u-uh… I'm not- um, what I m-mean is…"

_Wow, is this guy nervous! _Thought Mia smiling, quite amused by the hilarious shaking voice. Mr. Wright sounded like he was terrified of her.

"W-well… I was wondering… Perhaps I could… introduce m-myself in person, then… h-h-hopefully… You'd be w-willing, uh, to, uh… _**I just want to arrange a hearing!**_" He eventually threw it out, his voice more than slightly strained.

"A… hearing?" Mia finally understood. "You want to apply for a _job_?"

"Y-Yes, as a matter of… yeah…"

She stroke her chin, both surprised and confused. So **that's** what this guy tried to stutter all this time!

"I am not seeking any employees at this moment, Mr. Wright…" She started to say apologetically, but he interrupted her:

"Please, Miss Fey! I… could I please just make one appointment? PLEASE?"

"Well…" Mia wasn't sure what she should do. Despite his nervousness, Mr. Wright had a great amount of determination in his voice. Instead of immediately turning him down, she hesitated for some reason… "…what job do you wish to apply for anyway?"

"I just passed the bar exam last week."

"I see."

"And… you're the best Defense Attorney there is, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't-"

At this moment, Phoenix Wright exploded with almost nerdy enthusiasm. All of his precious scared attitude was gone without trace.

"I heard so much about you! You went straight to the top right off the bat and won with prosecutors years more experienced than you, and the way you talk about your job and trusting your clients and-"

"**Hold it!**" Mia interrupted, quite curious. "So you've heard about me, but how do you know that?"

"Huh?"

"How I talk about my job." She explained. "And my clients."

"Well I did a little… research…" He replied slowly, as if he was hiding something. "…oh, and I found an article about you in the newspaper!" He added quickly to dispel the negative impression.

"An article?"

"I've read about your first trial, and I… uh… Maybe I've attended to your trials once or twice…" Blushing embarrassment could be sensed even without seeing his face. "A-anyway! I remember you saying once that you defend people because you believe in them." Suddenly he completely calmed down. There was a strangely serious tone in his voice. "Is that true? Ms. Fey?"

"Yes, it is…" She nodded, even though he couldn't see it.

"Ms. Fey…" Phoenix Wright made a pause, like he was thinking about something. "Can you agree for just one hearing? Please? I-if you say yes and I won't qualify… then I promise, I won't b-bother you again." He sounded very sad to say that, but truthful.

"Hmm…" Mia leaned on her chair and pondered for a second.

So, she apparently was more famous than she expected, and she had _fans_. Or, at the very least, one fan. A shy one, but dedicated… and sincere. Despite claiming earlier that she wasn't interested in hiring anyone, she found herself rather intrigued. Alright then, she would hear him out once, what harm could that do?

"Very well. Is next Tuesday alright, Mr. Wright?"

She heard a gasp, sounding strikingly similar to '**YESSS!**', before she got a serious and collected reply:

"Yes, next Tuesday is just fine."

"I expect to see you in my office at nine." Mia tried to make an authoritative impression, aware that the man she was speaking to was potentially her employee. "You better arrive prepared."

"O-Of course… Thank you, Ms. Fey!"

"See you next Tuesday, Mr. Wright."

"Yeah, goodbye…"

Mia put away the phone and smiled. Well, that was out of nowhere! Would she really hire that nervous man with a strange name she just heard about? _Who knows… We'll see when he comes for the hearing… _She thought. _I should go back to working on __**NC-4**__ right now and think it over later._

* * *

><p>A weak knock could be barely heard on the thick wooden door.<p>

"Come in!" Said Mia Fey, sitting up straight.

An out-of-breath, black-spiky-haired man, in a blue suit, accompanied with red tie, bashfully peeked inside the office. _I suppose this is Mr. Phoenix Wright…_ thought Mia, glancing on the clock on the wall.

"You're late, Mr. Wright." She noted sternly, although she didn't really mind. Two minutes is something one would hardly call 'late', but Mia Fey was curious if the addressed would show the reaction she anticipated. And, she was not disappointed.

"I'm **so, so sorry, Ms. Fey**!" He gasped with his lip trembling, as if he was afraid she would kick him out any moment. Phoenix bent his back, so he could support hands on his knees, took a couple of deep breaths, with his head down, then explained: "I swear, I left a half an hour earlier to be here before time, but then my bike got busted, and then I met a friend on the street, and he just wouldn't leave me alone no matter what I told him, and then that old lady ran into me and started rambling, and-"

Mia started giggling uncontrollably, interrupting the young man's chaotic apology. It wasn't the story itself that amused her so much, rather the helpless, pitiable way he said it, like this sort of thing happened to him a lot. Her giggle soon turned into open laughter. _What a placable pushover…_ She thought, wiping the tears of fun off her face. _Poor Mr. Wright… I think I'm starting to like him already._

"It's alright" She said, grinning. "You're just three minutes late, after all. See? No harm done."

Phoenix Wright, who was looking embarrassed at the floor until that moment, finally dared to look at her. He have seen her from distance a couple of times, but never from so up close. And the difference was significant. For a second his face turned expressionless and his eye's shifted from her face, down to the waist. It didn't take him more than half a second, however, to realize what was he doing. Phoenix immediately turned to the wall with a slight blush crossing the cheeks. He closed his eyes, took another deep breath to calm down, and then looked at her again. Maintaining **strict eye contact**.

"Well, here I am…" Phoenix said. He grinned awkwardly and put his hand behind the head. "Um… It's… such an honor to meet you in person!"

She crossed her arms and smirked, immensely pleased with his humble attitude. Mia was well aware that she's an attractive woman, but it still irritated her when men constantly stared at her. She was truly grateful for one man that at least** made the effort **not to do that.

"It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Wright. Well, why don't you sit down while he discuss your application?"

"Uhm… Sure! Th-Thank you, Ms. Fey…"

Mia Fey asked a line of questions she prepared earlier, to check if Phoenix Wright had the necessary knowledge about the profession of a defense attorney. At first he was unsure, and all his answers were filled with stuttering. One could think Mia was a beast that would devour him if he made a mistake. But as they went on, Phoenix relaxed, got more confident, and his each reply sounded more accurate and firm. Mia sensed that beneath the shy, awkward attitude, Mr. Wright was hiding a great amount of strength and resourcefulness.

She liked the apparent respect the young man had for her… However, she frowned every time Phoenix called her 'Ms. Fey', because he pronounced those two words with such… _emphasis_ and _praise._ As if she were an ancient martial art master and he was a lowly teenage youngster, who came to humbly beg her to teach him her secret skills. It was flattering, but it also made her feel like an old relict, and she was just three years older than him.

"Oh, it's sounds so stiff and formal in your mouth…" Said Mia suddenly, causing a puzzled expression on Mr. Wright's face. "You can just call me 'Mia Fey'. Or just 'Mia'."

"Oh no! I couldn't…" Phoenix hesitated.

"Well, if you don't feel comfortable with it… you can call me 'Chief' instead."

"R-Really?" He jumped up, his eyes shining. _"_Thank you, Chief!"

Mia smiled, the sparkle of hope in his eye was such a heartwarming sight. There was just something about his eyes, she couldn't put her finger on it, but it made herself feel optimistic. Here she was, having a friendly conversation with a man she just met. Ms. Fey was observant enough to notice that they had a lot in common.

Finally, they arrived at the most important part:

"I'm curious. Why did you decide to become a lawyer in the first place, Mr. Wright?" Mia asked, supporting her chin with her left hand. "It sure isn't an easy profession."

"Yeah, well, you see… I wanted to help people. And I decided this is the way to do it." He explained with a thoughtful expression. Then he turned to the window with a far-away look in his eyes. "A defense attorney is someone who fights for justice and truth… That's what a friend told me once. Being a defense attorney means protecting those who can't do that themselves. I want to stand for the innocent, who have no one on their side left."

Phoenix looked back at Mia. He was surprised to see her staring at him, gobsmacked. "Uhm… Chief? D-Did I say something wrong?"

Mia Fey didn't respond immediately, astonished by his words. What he just said… It reminded her of what she said herself… All those years ago…

* * *

><p>"<em>This isn't fair! I'm so useless! I can't do anything… I wish I was older, then, maybe I could <em>_**do**__ something…!"_

"_This is not your fault, Mia. Don't blame yourself."_

"_I wish __**I**__ could defend you!"_

"_I know… but don't worry about me. Everything's going to be alright."_

_But it did not turn alright. Mia cried._

"_I'm so… sorry…"_

"_Shhh… It's okay… It's okay…"_

"_I wish I were a defense attorney! Then none of this would have ever happened! I… I will become a defense attorney someday, you'll see! I'll defend everyone who won't have anybody on their side! I-I will be the best defense attorney ever! And I'll never let something like this happen again!_

…_I promise."_

* * *

><p>"…Chief?"<p>

Mia blinked a couple of times, to stop tears before they could even form in her eyes.

"Ehem… Excuse me, Phoenix…" She unknowingly used his first name, for the first time. "I'm just… impressed. You have great ideals… That's very admirable."

When Phoenix comprehended she wasn't angry with him, he sighed in relief. "Thanks, Chief."

"It seems you have everything you need to become a good defense lawyer… Well, maybe except two things."

He looked up, worried. "What do I lack?"

"Confidence… and practice." She said, with a new smile. "So, Mr. Wright… Would you like to become my protégé?"

"OH YEAH!" He exclaimed happily, throwing his hands up in the air. Embarrassed by his own outburst, he quickly put hands behind the back and said awkwardly: "Ehm, I mean… Sure?"

* * *

><p>Mia Fey was really impressed with her pupil.<p>

Almost five months passed since she hired him. He was doing fine job as an assistant in the office: she made him do the cleaning, organizing files, buying groceries, and he did it all without complaining (even though sometimes his long face betrayed skeptical thoughts, which surely he was having a lot). Phoenix also accompanied her in courtrooms to watch Ms. Fey defend. He was picking up her techniques swimmingly. Mia discovered that, despite her first impression of Mr. Wright having more dedication than intelligence, he could be very quick-thinking when situation demanded it. He possessed an unconventional but brilliant mind, with the ability to connect facts in the craziest way, leading to the most unexpected yet accurate deductions. The woman could estimate he had a potential to become far better than she currently was. Of course, like she said, he needed experience first.

In any case, Mia was impressed, but not just because of his potential. What confused her was his devotion to the profession, which stood in contrast with his apparent aversion to most aspects of it. Law was usually tedious, endless rules and regulations to remember and even more boring papers to fill on every step. Phoenix hated those, as Ms. Fey could could easily tell. With his attitude, there were many other jobs that would be perfect for him. Mia imagined that with such original way of thinking, he could make a good artist. Why would he choose being a lawyer, a job so against his interests and personality, was beyond her. True, Mia didn't like those responsibilities either. But before she got used to it, she used her personal hurt to fuel her with energy. It was much later when she managed to transform her bitterness into sensibility. It wasn't the same with Phoenix Wright.

It was hard to pinpoint, but… There was _something_ when Phoenix spoke about being a defense attorney. An unique mixture of hope and conviction, with a drop of gratitude. It kept her wondering… She even asked once, if he ever had a trial as the defendant? His reply was somewhat cryptic, although he assured her that he never stood in court as the accused.

Mia and Phoenix got along very well and quickly became friends, beside their boss-employee relationship. The latter still treated her with utmost respect. Ms. Fey didn't know where his adoration was coming from, she could only guess it was something from the article he mentioned when he called her that day. Phoenix didn't talk much about himself or his background. Mia was fine with that. She wouldn't want to judge him because of his past anyway, and since he kept secrets, she was allowed to have hers as well, which was very convenient. The female defense attorney didn't really want to speak about her own inspiration, either. So Mr. Wright insisted to keep calling her "Chief", ignoring her encouragement to be less formal. On the other hand, Mia felt free to call him either "Phoenix" or "Wright" depending on the situation. When she wanted to tell him: "Good job!", she used his first name. Whenever he screwed up and needed a scolding, she switched to "Wright", also if someone else was around, to sound more professional. After all, she was still his boss. But just because she was, it didn't mean she couldn't care about the young man she was all of a sudden responsible for.

Phoenix did well as a Protégé of a famous defense lawyer such as Mia Fey. He studied hard and did everything in his power to make his teacher proud. But it'd been five months since she hired him and yet, she didn't give him a single case for himself. Disregarding that Mia was incredibly busy with conducting a secret investigations _and_ her regular job, even with Phoenix's help in the office, she still had a very specific reason for this. Even with her high opinion of Phoenix, she worried how it would affect him if he lost his first trial. Being a criminal defense attorney was a bit different than a regular one. A life sentence or the death row was a very common punishment for crime these days. And with the new three-day court system, it didn't take much to slip-up, and make a mistake that would cost the client his or her life. Mia knew this all too well…

So Ms. Fey delayed the moment as much as she could, trying to protect Phoenix from suffering after his first experience in the court. She explained it to him and he seemed to fully agree with her.

"I have a long way to go before I'm ready to- I mean, for that." He said, which made Mia curious, as there was obviously something troubling him. She didn't question him thought, he didn't look like he wanted to talk about it anyway.

* * *

><p>But the day came when it changed. Mr. Wright suddenly burst in the office and called out:<p>

"Chief! Chief!"

"What?!" Mia jumped up, startled, dropping the papers she was holding. "What is it? Did something bad happen?" She asked, seeing how anxious Phoenix was.

"Chief, there is something I need to talk about with you!"

He walked to her desk and put a file on the top. It was a copy of a police report.

"There's been a murder!"

"Oh, we got ourselves a new client?" She asked rhetorically while skipping through the file. He replied:

"I've been to the detention center already, and I've talked to the defendant. I… I want to represent him."

"You?" Mia looked at him with great surprise. "Are you sure?"

She didn't need to ask: it was easy enough to tell from his expression that he was being absolutely serious. "Yes…" He nodded. "If you let me, Chief. Please."

Ms. Fey watched her student for a moment, wondering what got him so determined. Just a week earlier, he refused to take a simple theft case that Mia suggested for a start. He assured her he wasn't ready yet and that she should take it instead. Where did the sudden change of mind came from?

"Of course I do let you, Phoenix." She smiled. "Why wouldn't I? If you feel you're up for it… I told you not too long ago, I think you're ready now." _Although I wasn't actually thinking __of__ giving you a __**murder**__ case_, she didn't say.

"Thank you so much, Chief…" He took a deep breath. "But… can I ask you-"

"You want me to be in the courtroom with you for moral support?" Mia asked with an all-knowing smile.

Phoenix looked up at her with amazement. "Y-you read minds, Chief!"

Mia laughed. "No, I don't think so… Yeah, I'll be your co-council during the trial. Unless, of course, you want to do this on your own. Then I'll just watch from the gallery."

"Well…" He managed an embarrassed smile. "I would feel a lot more secure if you were there with me, honestly…"

Mia stood up and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, I'll be there to help you out if you had any trouble." She assured him.

"Thanks." Phoenix seemed instantly relieved. "I should probably go fill the papers for tomorrow."

"The trial's tomorrow?" Asked Mia with concern. "Not much time for preparations."

"I suppose I'll have to wing it." Phoenix said, causing Mia's jaw to drop. _That's some confidence, coming from Mr. Nervous himself!_ She thought with amazement while he was still talking: "I'll pull it off… somehow. I just know he didn't do it."

"Very well. You better hurry." Mia dismissed him with a nod, and Phoenix quickly left the office.

The defense attorney quietly laughed to herself. _Who would have thought? Can it be that the young nestling is finally going to spread his wings to fly?_ She thought, shaking her head, still quite amazed about what just happened. If Phoenix lacked anything, it was self-confidence. But today he actually got his first case, on his own. And not just any case, a homicide! That was not something she expected to happen anytime soon. But, oh well, life is full of surprises.

Mia Fey picked up the fallen papers she was taking care of before Phoenix entered the office. She sighed when she read the headline again.

"So close… " She muttered to herself. "I just need to figure out what role White plays in this." Mia clicked her pen and started writing down on the sheet. "Suicide… suicide… Could it have been a suicide? Maybe, but…"

She soon pulled out another case file, titled: _DL-6_. She searched through all the materials she gathered so far during her investigation, until she found what she was looking for. She put the rest back on the shelf and pinned a black-and white picture from an old newspaper to a file titled _**NC-4**_.

"Target: Investigate… who… took… this… picture…" She scribbled down next to the picture.

When she finished, she hid the papers in her drawer and leaned back on her chair.

"So close…" She repeated, closing her eyelids. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this soon."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Oh, snap! Here comes the Elephant in the Room! :O**

"_**Didn't Mia and Phoenix meet before?! She defended him in Doug Swallow's trial, didn't she?! How dare you take such an important character development example out of the story! Your story's Bad and you should feel Bad! Boooo!**_**"**

**OBJECTION!**

_***insert Phoenix's objection theme***_

**I am well aware that in canon, Mia and Phoenix meet years before she hires him in her law firm, and in retrospect, it explains why Phoenix was so devoted to Mia.**

***DESK SLAM* (**_**…ouch! my hands!**_**)**

**However! Before "Trials and Tribulations" came out, it was not only NOT canon, but was never suggested! Actually, it seemed completely out of place to me in the third game!**

**Why Mia would ever hire Phoenix if she had such a horrible experience with him beforehand?! If I were her, I'd think that's the worst idea of the year! Phoenix lied to her, acted like an idiot, wore an embarrassing pink sweater with a heart on it like a retard, dated the psychopath who poisoned her boyfriend, **_**and**_** swallowed a glass bottle that used to contain the very same poison, destroying the one evidence that could have saved him and messing everything up! Isn't that a reason to say 'no' to that guy few years later, even if he DID grow up by that point and learned from his mistakes?!**

**This is the result of making stuff up later on instead of having a solid story from the beginning, like in the first game! That's why "Ace Attorney 1" is my favorite!**

**(…I still like "Trials and Tribulations", thought.)**

**In my head, I always imagined Phoenix chose Mia to be his mentor because she reminded him of Edgeworth - that is, the eight-year-old Miles, who wanted to be a defense attorney. I'm showing you what I thought happened based on facts from "Ace Attorney", before I've ever heard of "Trials and Tribulations". I'll include some stuff from later games, like "Justice For All", but I'm sticking with original 4-case "Ace Attorney", **_**and**_** I'm making _my own story_ out of it!**

**SO DEAL WITH IT! B)**

**So, if were done with that…**

**Know that in my story, Phoenix has **_**reasons**_** to ask Mia to be his mentor. Here, Mia Fey and Edgeworth met only once in the courtroom. But none of them actually won. The defendant killed himself because he couldn't handle the pressure. Are you still following me? Nope, still no Dahlia. It's not the **_**same**_** case, from "T&T". There are similarities between the two, but it's my totally unrelated idea.**

**I always pictured Miles Edgeworth and Mia Fey being equals. I couldn't imagine one losing to another. That's the only possible result then… the defendant losing **_**his life**_** in the courtroom.**

**Because of that trial, Mia is the only defense attorney EVER that faced Edgeworth and didn't lose. That's why Phoenix wanted her to teach him so badly.**

**That's reasonable, right?**

**To avoid any unnecessary ambiguity… No, Phoenix doesn't have a crush on Mia. When Edgeworth called his own mentor "a god of prosecution", Phoenix thought "I guess that's like what Mia's to me…" I tried to emphasize how much of an unreachable "hero-figure" Mia is to him by how awkward he was the first time talking to her. But I addressed that she's attractive because I know that's the first thing any guy would think seeing her, and Phoenix **_**is**_** a guy. I mean, come on, Mia's design IS provoking! It is! I sincerely doubt that Phoenix ever thought of her as a potential love interest, though.**

**Wow, my notes are long! :D**

**Also… "Weenix Fright". Hahahaha, I laughed so hard when I wrote this. Oh I'm having so much fun with all of this! XD**


	4. The Phoenix on Fire

Mia rushed in the defendant's lobby five minutes before the trial started. She quickly fixed her hair and suit, hoping it didn't show how little sleep she got last night. She spent hours sitting in front of the NC-4 papers and fell asleep on top of them in the process. Lesson learned - never sleep on your desk. It's extremely uncomfortable, and you'll be feeling a lot of it through the whole day.

"Phoenix!" She called out as soon as she arrived, looking for her pupil.

"Oh, h-hiya, Chief." Phoenix Wright was already there. He greeted her with an unsure wave of hand. She could also see that his legs were slightly shaking.

"Whew, I'm glad I made it on time." Mia sighed, then quickly scrutinized Phoenix.

He looked prepared, his suit so clean it literally sparkled. The suitcase in his left hand was shaking, as if there was something alive inside it. It was just his limb trembling, though. Mr. Wright seemed almost as nervous as the time when he called her to make an appointment, five months ago. Ah, the stress before the first trial... Ms. Fey remembered how she felt herself... yup, she was a mess, wasn't she? Mia decided he could use some encouraging right now.

"Well, I have to say, Phoenix, I'm impressed! Not everyone takes on a murder trial right off the bat like this. It says a lot about you…" She paused, pondering."…and your client as well."

"Um… t-thanks." Phoenix managed to smile. "Actually, it's because I owe him a favor."

"A favor?" Mia repeated with surprise. "You mean, you knew the defendant before this case?"

"Yes." Phoenix nodded with a far-away look in his eyes. "Actually, I kind of owe my current job to him. He's one of the reasons I became an attorney."

Mia Fey rubbed her chin, glancing at the rookie lawyer with curiosity. "Well, that's news to me!" _But it makes sense… _She added in her thoughts._ After all, he took this case without hesitation. I should have known he must have had a reason._

"I want to help him out any way I can! I just…" Phoenix paused, wondering what was the best way to explain. "…really want to help him. I owe him that much."

Mia opened her mouth to ask about kind of history they had, when a sudden shout from the other side of the lobby interrupted their conversation:

"**It's over! My life, everything, it's all over!**"

They both turned their heads in identical slow motion.

"Isn't that your client screaming over there?" Mia asked, lifting her eyebrows.

"Yeah... that's him." Phoenix sighed.

He had a peculiar expression of patience, annoyance, sympathy and embarrassment all at the same time. Mia did her best to not laugh, but seeing him like this was rather funny.

"**Death! Despair! Ohhhh! I'm gonna do it, I'm gonna die!**"

"It sounds like he wants to die…" Mia commented, no longer capable of suppressing an amused smile.

"Um, yeah." Phoenix couldn't help but sigh again. Mia was under the impression that whoever the client was, he was a type of friend that one wouldn't speak of too often. And her suspicion was confirmed as soon as the defendant appeared right next to them.

"Nick!" Said a lousy-looking, sobbing young man in an orange jacket and messy brow hair. He walked to Phoenix and grabbed his sleeve.

"Hey." Phoenix tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey there, Larry."

"Dude, I'm so guilty!** Tell them I'm guilty!**" Larry cried loudly, pulling Phoenix's arm like a kid would do with his mother in a candy shop. "Gimme the **death** sentence! I ain't afraid to **die**!"

"What!?" Phoenix looked at him with wide eyes. "What's wrong, Larry?"

"Oh, it's all over... I... I'm finished. Finished!" The man dramatized, letting go of his friend's arm and making over-the-top gesticulations with his hands. "I can't live in a world without her! I can't! Who... who took her away from me, Nick? Who did this!?" His eyes filled with tears, but for some strange reason, it was more amusing than pitiful… or annoying, depending on the point of view. "Aww, Nick, ya gotta tell me! Who took my baby away!?"

Mia covered her mouth with her hand, trying her best to stay silent. Bursting out in laughter in such situation wouldn't be very polite. Phoenix tried to comfort his friend the best way he could, his manner convincing Ms. Fey that they must have known each other for a long time. She wondered why exactly Phoenix Wright would owe such a man (who didn't seem capable of putting anybody in his debt… If anything, it was the other way around). But there was no time for such questions: the bailiff came over and informed them the trial was about to start.

* * *

><p>"The court is now in session for the trial of Mr. Larry Butz." A grey-bearded, bald judge announced with a bang of his gavel. The trial officially began.<p>

"The prosecution is ready, Your Honor." The prosecutor, who was mostly bald as well, said in very moaning tone. Mia new this man and was very glad it was him, and not… _some other_ _prosecutor_ that her pupil would be facing in his first trial. Despite the reputation of a 'Rookie Killer', Winston Payne was not a very talented prosecutor. Mia won against him numerous times in her career.

Phoenix, after a five second long silence, looked up to in slight panic as he realized he was supposed to say something as well.

"The, um, defense is ready, Your Honor." He stated quickly with shaky voice.

The judge look at the new defense attorney.

"Ahem. Mr. Wright?" He said politely. "This is your first trial, is it not?"

"Y-Yes, Your Honor." Phoenix nodded, gnawing his lip. "I'm, uh, a little nervous."

_No kidding, Mr. Nervous…_ Mia smirked slightly, but understood the pressure he was under. To be fair, she was almost as scared as he was during her first trial… not that she liked remembering it.

"Your conduct during this trial will decide the fate of your client. Murder is a serious charge." The judge lectured him in a stoic manner. "For your client's sake, I hope you can control your nerves."

"Thank… thank you, Your Honor." Mr. Wright gulped, obviously not comforted by this.

The judge sent him another concerned look.

"Mr. Wright, given the circumstances..." He started. "I'm going to ask you three simple questions, to make sure you're ready to begin."

"Yes, Your Honor." Phoenix humbly agreed.

"First off…" The old man looked at the file in front of him. "Please state the name of the defendant in this case."

"The defendant?" The defense attorney was surprise the question was so easy. "Well, that's Larry Butz, Your Honor."

"Correct." The judge nodded. "Just keep your wits about you and you'll do fine. Next question. This is a murder trial. Tell me, what's the victim's name?"

Phoenix straightened up, opened his mouth to answer and then froze in place. Mia, standing next to him, sent a puzzled glance. Two awkward seconds later she understood what that pose meant.

"Phoenix! Are you absolutely SURE you're up to this?" She whispered anxiously, having second thoughts about everything she said so far. "You don't even know the victim's name!?"

"Oh, the victim!" Phoenix finally blurted out. He looked at his mentor frantically. "O-of course I know the victim's name! I, um, just forgot." He blushed furiously and lowered his head in shame. "…Temporarily."

"I think I feel a migraine coming on." Mia rubbed her temples with a painful expression. Her lack of sleep last night was definitely **not** helping. "Look, the defendant's name is listed in the Court Record."

Phoenix quickly reached the file and peeked at the autopsy report.

"Um…" He finally turned back to the judge and said as firmly as he could: "The victim's name is Cindy Stone."

"Correct." The judge still had the same concerned expression as before. "Now, tell me, what was the cause of death?"

"She was struck once, by a blunt object." Phoenix replied immediately. Mia gladly noted that he seemed less stressed, and not only her did.

"Correct. You've answered all my questions, so I see no reason why we shouldn't proceed. You seem much more relaxed, Mr. Wright. Good for you." The judge added politely.

"Thank you, Your Honor." Phoenix said with steady voice, but a little twitch of his eye and a drop of sweat on the forehead told Mia he wasn't quite relaxed just yet. She put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, feeling how tense his muscles were.

"Now, a question for the prosecution." The judge turned his head to the other side of the courtroom. "Mr. Payne?"

"Yes, Your Honor?" Asked the moaning prosecutor.

"As Mr. Wright just told us, the victim was struck with a blunt object. Would you explain to the court just what that "object" was?"

"The murder weapon was this statue of "The Thinker." It was found lying on the floor, next to the victim." Prosecutor Payne said with the most pretentious tone possible in Mia's opinion. It only reminded her how much she disliked the man.

"I see... the court accepts it into evidence."

"Wright..." Mia said quietly after this exchange. She always called him by his surname in the courtroom to sound more professional. "Be sure to pay attention to any evidence added during the trial." Phoenix motioned his head to show that he's focused.

"Mr. Payne, the prosecution may call its first witness." Said the judge.

"The prosecution calls the defendant, Mr. Butz, to the stand."

Mia frown, surprised. The defendants were very rarely called on the stand to testify. It was common practice among the accused to make up stories about how their acts were in self-defense or even a mistake or an accident, in order to shorten the sentence. Thus, their testimonies were not considered reliable. Especially in this case, when the defendant was pleading 'Not Guilty', they wouldn't listen to his story of the events. Prosecutor Payne was sure up to no good.

"Um, Chief, what do I do now?" Asked Phoenix hesitantly, confused as well. He sure didn't look like he wanted to cross-examine Larry... and yeah, Mia couldn't blame him.

"Pay attention." She advised. "You don't want to miss any information that might help your client's case. Let's just hope he doesn't say anything… unfortunate."

Larry took the witness stand, presenting himself absolutely crooked, and looking around with a clueless expression.

"Mr. Butz." The prosecutor addressed the defendant. "Is it not true that the victim had recently dumped you?"

"Hey, watch it buddy!" Larry angrily waved his fist in the air. "We were great together! We were like Romeo and Juliet, Cleopatra and Mark Anthony!"

Phoenix's mouth dropped, and Mia covered her forehead with her hand. The judge blinked, surprised by the 'unfortunate' comparisons as well.

"I wasn't dumped!" Larry insisted, oblivious to everyone's reactions. "She just wasn't taking my phone calls. Or seeing me… Ever." He paused for a second, before taking a deep breath and exclaiming: "**WHAT'S IT TO YOU, ANYWAY!?**"

"Mr. Butz, what you describe is generally what we mean by 'dumped.'" Prosecutor Payne said with a pleased voice, but no less moaning than before. "In fact, she had completely abandoned you… and was seeing other men! She had just returned from overseas with one of them the day before the murder!"

"Whaddya mean, 'one of them'!?" Larry sweated. "Lies! All of it, lies! I don't believe a word of it!"

"Your Honor, the victim's passport." Payne presented evidence. "She appears to have returned the day before the murder."

"Dude… no way…" Butz was muttering to himself in disbelief. Mia felt genuinely sorry for him.

"We can clearly see what kind of woman this Ms. Stone was." Winston Payne announced with satisfaction, now getting straight to the point: "Tell me, Mr. Butz… _what do you think of her now_?"

"Wright…" Mia whispered in a warning. "I don't think you want him to answer that question."

Phoenix acted immediately. He slammed his hands on the desk (a habit inherited from Ms. Fey after four months of watching her trials) and announced authoritatively:

"My client had no idea the victim was seeing other men! That question is irrelevant to this case!"

"Oof!" Winston winced, surprised with how confidently the defense took over. Phoenix smirked a little, happy with his first triumph of the day… but not for long.

"Dude! Nick! Whaddya mean, 'irrelevant'!?" Larry shouted, outraged. "That cheating _she-dog_! I'm gonna die! I'm just gonna drop dead!" He continued to lament in front of entire gallery of people. "Yeah, and when I meet her in the afterlife..." His face reddened. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this!"

The crowd started chattering, forcing the judge to quiet the court down by a slam of his gavel.

"Let's continue with the trial, shall we?" He said with indifference.

"I think the motive of the defendant is obvious, Your Honor." Payne sneered, glad his little scheme worked out.

"It would seem so, yes." The judge agreed, much to Phoenix's dismay.

"The prosecution now would like to call a witness who can prove Mr. Butz killed his former girlfriend, Cindy Stone. The man who found the victim's body. Just before making the gruesome discovery... He saw the defendant fleeing the scene of the crime!"

The gallery started rambling again, this time the judge had to raise his voice:

"Order! Order in the court! Mr. Payne, the prosecution may call its witness."

The man soon appeared on the witness stand. He was short, wore a purple suit and an unsettling, cocky smile. Mia immediately thought: _This guy is fishy. There are going to be tons of lies in his testimony, no doubt._

"State your name, please." Payne said.

"My name's Frank Sahwit." He answered, beckoning, still wearing that creepy smile of his. Phoenix shuddered slightly, having a bad feeling about him as well.

"On the day of the murder, my witness was selling newspapers at the victim's apartment building." Payne explained the man's presence.

"Mr. Sahwit, you may proceed with your testimony."

**- Witness's Account -  
><strong>

"_I was going door-to-door, selling subscriptions when I saw a man fleeing an apartment._

_I thought he must be in a hurry because he left the door half-open behind him._

_Thinking it strange, I looked inside the apartment. _

_Then I saw her lying there... A woman... not moving... dead! _

_I quailed in fright and found myself unable to go inside._

_I thought to call the police immediately! However, the phone in her apartment wasn't working._

_I went to a nearby park and found a public phone._

_I remember the time exactly: it was 1:00 PM._

_The man who ran was, without a doubt, the defendant sitting right over there."_

"Now, Mr. Wright…" The Judge turned to the defense attorney. "You may begin your cross-examination."

Phoenix didn't move, apparently uncertain what to do. Mia decided to inspire him with a short pep talk:

"Alright, Wright, this is it. The real deal!"

He looked at her, his face again worried and nervous. He saw his boss doing a cross-examination countless times, yet he had no idea how to begin now.

"Expose the lies in the testimony the witness just gave!" Mia prompted him. "You hold the key, it's in the evidence. Compare the witness's testimony to the evidence at hand. Find contradictions between the Court Record and the witness's testimony, then rub it in his smug face!"

"Um…" Phoenix took a deep breath and looked at the witness stand. "Okay." His expression changed, determination taking control of uncertainty.

Mia watched as he cross-examined each statement through, leaving no detail unanswered and uncovered, just as she taught him. His every new exclamation of "**HOLD IT!**", he seemed more and more into it, getting a hang of it very quickly.

"_I remember the time exactly: it was 1:00 PM."_

Ms. Fey was quite pleased with how the things were going, but just to be safe, she gave a tip:

"Wright. Doesn't that seem strange to you?"

"Yes, I noticed." He agreed, rubbing his chin.

"Then present evidence to contradict him. There you go!"

Phoenix reached the Court Record and grabbed a copy of the Autopsy Repost. Mia leaned forward, excited to hear her student say this for the very first time. _I still remember my own so vividly like it was yesterday… _She felt nostalgic.

"**OBJECTION!**" The most powerful word in the courtroom rang through the air.

Phoenix stood straight, announcing it with thrilling force, pointing his finger at the witness stand (another habit learned from Mia). Mr. Sahwit jerked, surprised by the sudden yell.

"You found the body at 1:00 PM. You're sure?" The attorney asked sternly.

"Yes. It was 1:00 PM, for certain." Mr. Sahwit insisted, grating his hands against each other.

"Frankly, I find that hard to believe!" Phoenix raised the autopsy in the air for the court to see. "Your statement directly contradicts the autopsy report. The autopsy notes the time of death at some time after 4:00 PM. There was nobody to… er…" Phoenix corrected himself: "…no 'body' to find at 1:00 PM! How do you explain this three-hour gap?"

"Oh, that!" Frank Sahwit blinked, caught off-guard. "Oh, eh…"

"**OBJECTION!**" Prosecutor Payne interrupted. "This is trivial! The witness merely forgot the time!"

"After his testimony, I find that very hard to believe." The judge disagreed. "Mr. Sahwit... Why were you so certain that you found the body at 1:00 PM?"

"I… uh… well, I…" The witness was quite flabbergasted. "Gee, that's a really good question!"

Mia was beaming with pride.

"Great job, Wright! Way to put him on the spot!" She whispered. "Lies always beget more lies! See through one, and their whole story falls apart!"

Phoenix smiled, glad he found his first contradiction. So was Mia. Things started to be looking up.

"Wait!" Mr. Sahwit exclaimed suddenly. "I remember now!"

"Would you care to give your testimony again?" Asked the judge, deadpanned.

**- The Time of Discovery -  
><strong>

"_You see, when I found the body, I heard the time._

_There was a voice saying the time… It was probably coming from the television._

_Oh, but it was three hours off, wasn't it?_

_I guess the victim must have been watching a video of a taped program._

_That's why I thought it was 1:00 PM! Terribly sorry about the misunderstanding…"_

"Hmm… I see." Said the judge. "So you heard a voice saying the time on a taped program. Mr. Wright, you may cross-examine the witness."

_I can't put my finger on it, but something about this seems off. _Mia thought, frowning_. Something about 'hearing' the television…_

"**OBJECTION!** Hold it right there!" Phoenix was on fire, he figured it out before Mia even formed the suspicion in her head. Judging by the enthusiasm in his voice, he was also beginning to enjoy this. "The prosecution has said there was a blackout at the time of the discovery!" It was an information obtained during the first cross-examination. "And this record proves it! You couldn't have heard a television… or a video!"

"Gah!" The witness was taken aback and did not take it well. He began to stammer helplessly. "I… well… urk!"

"The defense has a point." The judge acknowledged. "Do you have an explanation for this, Mr. Sahwit?"

"No, I… I find it quite puzzling myself! Quite!" He was literally sweating bullets. "W-wait! I remember now!"

"Mr. Sahwit? The court would prefer to hear an accurate testimony from the very beginning." The judge dryly informed him. "These constant corrections are harming your credibility. And you seem rather… distraught."

"M-my apologies, Your Honor! It… er, it must have been the shock of finding the body!"

"Very well, Mr. Sahwit." The witness was given another chance. "Let's hear your testimony once more please."

**- Hearing the Time -**

"_Actually, I didn't 'hear' the time... I 'saw' it!_

_There was a table clock in the apartment, wasn't there! Yeah, the murder weapon!_

_The killer used it to hit the victim! That must have been what I saw."_

"You saw a clock? I guess that would explain it."

Phoenix looked a little shocked how easily the judge swallowed new explanation he got. Mia sent her protégé a knowing look, letting him know it wasn't the first time this had happened.

"The defense may cross-examine the witness."

"Gladly." Mr. Wright looked like he wanted to roll up sleeves in attempt to literally 'take care' of the witness's 'explaining' testimony.

"_There was a table clock in the apartment, wasn't there! Yeah, the murder weapon!"_

"**OBJECTION!**" Phoenix attacked. "The murder weapon wasn't a clock. It was this statue!" He pulled out the evidence, pointing at 'The Thinker'. "Now, how is this supposed to be a clock?!"

"Whaa!?" Frank Sahwit was starting to lose it_. That's good. _Mia thought with satisfaction_. Sooner he breaks, sooner Phoenix wins the trial. _"Y-you with your 'objections' and your 'evidence'… Just who do you think you are!?"

"Just answer the question, Mr. Sahwit." The judge ordered, giving him a stern glare.

"Hey, I… I saw it there, okay!" The witness insisted stubbornly. "That's a clock!"

Suddenly, prosecutor Payne spoke. He seemed to be a little worried too.

"Your Honor! If I may…" He squeaked.

"Yes, Mr. Payne?"

"As the witness stated, this statue is indeed a clock." He stated, surprising both Phoenix and Mia. "The neck is a switch. You just tilt it, and it says the time out loud. As it doesn't look like a clock, I submitted it as a statue. My apologies."

"I see… So the murder weapon was a table clock after all." The judge turned to the defense's side. "Well, Mr. Wright? It appears that the witness's testimony was correct. This is a clock. Do you have any problems with his testimony now?"

_This is a very curious information… And a very useful one, too…_ Mia thought, intending to share her thoughts with Phoenix. Although, before she even opened her mouth, he was already on track:

"Your Honor, there is a gaping hole in the witness's testimony! The only way he could have known the weapon was a clock is to hold it in his hand. Yet the witness testified that he never entered the apartment!" Phoenix slammed his hands on the desk forcefully. "Clearly, a contradiction!"

"Hmm... indeed!" The judge blinked, realizing that Mr. Wright was… uh… right.

"The witness knew it was a clock, because…" Phoenix pointed dramatically "…he's **lying**! He was inside the apartment on the day of the murder!"

"Oh yeah?" Frank Sahwit was visibly trembling, but remained stubborn. "Prove it! Prove I went in there!"

"I'll do better than that! I'll prove you were the one who killed her!" The defense announced, astonishing with this bold claim everybody beside Mia (who suspected it from beginning). "You struck her with the clock, and the shock of the blow triggered the clock's voice! That was the sound you heard!"

The people of the gallery started chattering, and the judge struggled to regain control over the courtroom yet again.

"Order in the court!" He yelled. "Intriguing. Please continue, Mr. Wright."

"Yes, Your Honor. Mr. Sahwit… The sound must have left quite an impression on you. Understandable, since the murder weapon spoke just as you hit the victim! That voice was burned into your mind. That's why you were so certain about the time!"

"**OBJECTION!**" Payne's objection was a little late, probably because he was too surprised when the defense made their accusation. "W-w-what's the meaning of this? This is all baseless conjecture!" He stammered, big drops of sweat falling from his face.

"Baseless...?" Phoenix stretched his arm in the direction of the witness stand. "Just look at the witness's face!"

"Ngh... grrrah!" Mr. Sahwit groaned loudly, clearly on verge of breaking down.

"Would the witness care to elaborate?" The judge asked him authoritatively. "Did you strike the victim with the clock?"

"I… I…! That… that day… I… I never!" Mr. Sahwit blurted out disorderly. "Look… I… the clock… I heard, no! I mean, I saw… Saw… nggg!" He finally gave up struggling with words and let out a frustrated shout. "Gwaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

The witness grabbed his hair, which turned out to be a wig, took it off and threw it at the defense. It landed precisely on Phoenix's face, leaving a disgusted and irritated expression on it.

"Shutupshutupshutup! I hate you!" Frank Sahwit screamed, breathing heavily. His eyes goggled out, his face skewed and his entire exterior was transformed due to this sudden change of attitude. "I-it was him, I tell you! I saw him! H-he killed her and he should burn! Burn! Give him **death**!" He spitted out.

"Order! Order in the court I say!"

It comes without saying that the court got quite agitated. Mr. Sahwit's breakdown had convinced everyone that he was, in fact, the true murderer. However, the trial wasn't over yet.

"Your Honor, a-a moment please!" Winston Payne protested. "There isn't a shred of evidence supporting the defense's claims!"

The judge pondered for a while, before finally speaking to the defense:

"Mr. Wright!"

"Your Honor?" Phoenix looked up.

"You claim the sound the witness heard came from the clock… Do you have any evidence?"

He nodded confidently. "Yes, Your Honor."

_You get them, Phoenix!_ Mia was completely relaxed, just watching and enjoying the show by that point. She almost wished she had brought popcorn.

"The sound Mr. Sahwit heard was definitely this clock. A fact which is clear if you simply sound the clock… right now, here in this court." The attorney proposed. "Your Honor, may I have the clock?" He was handed 'The Thinker' immediately. "I ask the court to listen very carefully…"

Everyone fell silent. Phoenix, with great deliberateness, proceed to opening the clock, holding it up so all could see it. Then he pushed the switch and the moment he did so, a mechanic, but clear voice came out of the statue:

"_I think it's… 8:25."_

"That certainly is a strange way to announce the time." The judge commented, looking intrigued. There was no doubt that he was thinking of buying one of those clocks for himself.

"Well, it is 'The Thinker', after all." Phoenix shrugged at the obvious.

"So, we've heard the clock… What are your conclusions, Mr. Wright?"

"Mr. Payne…" Phoenix said to the prosecution. "Can you tell me what time it is now?"

Mr. Payne enclosed his wrist to his eyes, as he was clearly short-sighted. Of course, he was staring at his watch, not the wrist.

"It's: …11:25…" It took a couple of seconds for the slow-on-the-uptake prosecutor to realize what it meant. "**Ack!**"

Phoenix Wright put his hands on the hips, smiling in triumph.

"As you can see, this clock is exactly three hours slow! Precisely the discrepancy between what Mr. Sahwit heard and the actual time of death! So, Mr. Sahwit…" He pointed at the witness. "Try to talk your way out of this one!"

Frank Sahwit looked really cornered for a moment. He breathed heavily, his eyes were flying around in madness. Then suddenly, he looked at the defense attorney... and grinned.

"…Hah! Hah hah!" He laughed menacingly, causing everybody to get goosebumps. "You forgot one thing!" He mocked Phoenix, who stared at him with confusion. "While it may seem like that clock IS running three hours slow… It proves nothing! How do you know it was running three days slow on the day of the murder!? If you can't prove that, you don't have a case!"

Phoenix's arm fell down, he was visibly caught off-guard with this demand. And he had been so certain he already won!

"Mr. Wright? It seems you lack the critical evidence to support your claim." The judge glanced at him with anticipation.

"…Yes, Your Honor…" The defense attorney slowly admitted.

"This means I cannot let you indict the witness. Unfortunately…" The judge grabbed his gavel and made a single bang. "This ends the cross-examination of Mr. Frank Sahwit."

Phoenix opened his mouth to object, but nothing came to his mind. Was it really over? Could it be he went all this way for nothing?

"I come all the way down here to testify, and look what happens! They treat me like a criminal! A criminal! You lawyers are all slime!" Mr. Sahwit cursed, ready to leave the courtroom.

Mia had been patiently waiting for Phoenix to yell "**OBJECTION**!" and find another contradiction, but in this moment she realized it was not going to happen. His energy had been all burned up, which showed in Phoenix's slumped shoulders, and his head lowered in defeat. He had given up.

It was just the time for the female defense attorney to come to the rescue.

"**Not so fast, Mr. Sahwit!**" She shouted right before he made first steps towards the door.

Even Phoenix was surprised when it happened.

"Mia! I mean, Chief!" He exclaimed without thinking.

Mia concealed a grin at the fact he called her by her name for the first time. It was very nice to hear, but they had no time for this now.

"Listen up, Wright!" She turned to her student, piercing him with a stern glare. "Don't throw this one away, not like this! Think!"

"But, Chief, it's over…" He said meekly, avoiding her eyes. "I… I can't prove the clock was slow the day of the murder! Nobody can prove that!"

"Um… well, yes." She admitted, which made him look at her. He was quite puzzled how calmly she said it. "But… that doesn't mean you can't still win! Try thinking out of the box!" She told him. "Don't waste time doubting the facts. Instead, look at them from the other side! Assume the clock was three hours slow and… Think through it! Ask yourself, 'Why was the clock three hours slow'? Figure out the reason, and you'll have your proof!"

Phoenix listened carefully to her words, squinting. He knew she was right. If only he could think of something… Suddenly, his eyes lit up and his entire body jerked at a sudden realization.

"So, Phoenix?" Mia sent him a reassuring smile. "Can you think of a reason as to why the clock would be three hours slow?"

"Maybe I can prove it!" He said with restored hope.

The judge listened to the exchange patiently. When their conversation was finished, he asked:

"Well, Mr. Wright? You say the clock was already running slow on the day of the murder… Have you found evidence to support this claim?"

The defense attorney stayed silent for about five seconds, until…

"Of course!" He grinned widely, causing the judge and the prosecution to have very confused expressions on their faces. "There is a piece of evidence that can prove my claim beyond a doubt!"

"Hah! Tough words!" Mr. Sahwit apparently didn't believe it. "Let's see you pull this one off!"

"**TAKE THAT!**" Phoenix exclaimed, pulling out of the Court Record… the passport. "The victim had just returned home from abroad the day before the murder. As we all know, the time difference between here and Paris is nine hours! When it's 4:00 PM here, it's 1:00 AM the next day there." He hit the desk for emphasis and continued: "The clock wasn't three hours slow, it was nine hours fast! The victim hadn't reset her clock since returning home! That's why the time you heard when you struck her dead in her apartment was wrong!"

Winston Payne winced in shock.

"Proof enough for you, Mr. Sahwit?" Phoenix asked smugly, certain that this time he had truly won. "Or should I say… _**Mr. Did It**_!"

"Ngh…!"

The witness growled loudly, pulling the collar of his shirt. A couple of button flew through the air, ripped off. His mouth filled with foam and he fell down, utterly broken.

The gallery was talking so loud though, nobody could hear him screaming.

"O-order! Order, I say!"

* * *

><p><em>(After many, many 'Orders' and bangs of the gavel later…)<em>

* * *

><p>"Well… This case has certainly turned out differently than we all expected." The judge muttered. "Mr. Payne… your witness?"<p>

"He… er… he was arrested and has been taken away, Your Honor." The prosecutor replied, visibly broken as well. He just lost to a rookie, after all… A rookie trained by _another_ rookie who had bested him in the past. There could be no more humiliating defeat than this one.

"Very well." The judge nodded and turned to the defense one last time: "Mr. Wright?"

"Yes, Your Honor?" Phoenix stood there calmly. Mia knew him well enough to recognized that inwardly, he was sighing with relief, glad that it was finally over.

"I have to say, I'm impressed." The judge complimented. "I don't think I've ever seen someone complete a defense so quickly… and find the true culprit at the same time!"

"Thank you, Your Honor." The attorney rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks warming with pride.

"At this point, this is only a formality, but… This court finds the defendant, Mr. Larry Butz…"

_**NOT GUILTY**_

"And with that... The court is adjourned."

* * *

><p>"Phoenix! Great job in there!" Mia said when they got back to the defendant's lobby. "Congratulations!"<p>

"Th-thanks, Chief." Phoenix was still grinning, but he looked at his boss humbly and said: "I owe it all to you."

"Not at all, not at all!" Mia shook her head. "You fought your own battles in there. It's been a while since I've seen a trial end on such a satisfying note!"

They smiled to each other, the protégé and his mentor, both overjoyed with the outcome. They waited a long time for this triumph, she prepared him, he prepared himself, then, they achieved it together, with hard work, and now, they could rejoice in their glorious victory…!

…then the moment got ruined.

"My life is over…" Something… That is _somebody_ sobbed. The attorneys turned just to witness a very downcast Larry Butz.

"Larry! You're supposed to be happy!" Phoenix exclaimed with disappointment. "What's wrong now!?"

"Aww, Nick… Don't worry 'bout me!" He sobbed pathetically. "I'll be dead and gone soon!"

"Good! …Wait, no!" Phoenix corrected himself. "I mean… Bad! Bad bad bad! Larry, you're innocent! The case is closed."

"But… but my Cindy-Windy's gone, man! Gone forever!"

Mia walked up to Larry, hoping she could cheer him up. "Congratulations, Harry!"

"H-Harry…?" Larry turned to her, confused.

"Yes, you!" Mia didn't realize she mispronounced the name. "Think about it, you're probably going to be in a newspaper! I can practically see the headlines now: 'Harry Butz, Innocent!'"

Larry smiled, not attempting to correct her. His depression suddenly was gone.

"Heh… um… thanks! I really owe you one. I won't forget this, ever!" Despite claiming a second ago his life was over without Cindy, he was looking at Ms. Fey very fondly. "Let's celebrate! Dinner? Movie? My treat!"

"Oh, no, I couldn't." She replied politely.

"Oh, hey!" Larry suddenly jumped, like he had an idea. He took a bag he left in the lobby for the duration of the trial and opened it. "H-Here, take this! It's a present!"

"A present? For me?" Mia examined the object she was handed: it was a statue… of 'The Thinker'. "Wait… Wasn't this the evidence that…"

"Actually, I made this clock for her!" Larry explained. "I made one for her and one for me."

"R-really? You? You made this?" Mia had to admit, it was rather nicely crafted. Despite his utterly unimpressive exterior, Larry Butz seemed to possess some artistic talent. "Well, thank you. I'll keep it as a memento."

"Yo, Nick..." Larry turned to Phoenix, who watched the previous exchange with a skeptical expression. "Can you believe it? I was so into that chick… And… and she was just playing me for a fool!" He started sobbing again. "Don't that make you wanna just cry…?"

"Larry…" Phoenix just sighed, not certain how to comfort Larry after loss of _such_ girlfriend.

"Are you so sure?" Mia asked suddenly.

"Ex-squeeze me?" Larry blinked, surprised.

"I think she thought quite a lot of you, in her own way." She said, crossing her arms and smiling warmly.

"Nah, you don't gotta sympathize with me, 'sokay." Larry wiped all the water off his face.

"Oh, I'm not just sympathizing, really." Mia Fey assured him, then turned to her employee: "Isn't that right, Phoenix? Don't you have something to show your friend?" She winked conspiratorially. "Something that proves how she felt about him?"

"H-huh?" Phoenix stared at her, completely lost for a moment. Then, an idea came over him, strangely not accompanied by a light bulb above the head. "Oh, yeah, right!" He quickly searched through the Court Record with him to find in his possession… "Check this out, Larry. Proof Positive you weren't just some chump to her!"

"Huh…?" Larry looked at the object presented to him with bewilderment. "Where'd you get that clock?"

Phoenix faceplamed.

"This is the clock _you_ made for her, Larry! She took it with her when she traveled."

Larry wondered for a moment and shrugged:

"Hmm, she probably just needed a clock, that's all."

"You think so?" Phoenix smirked. "It's a pretty heavy clock to take traveling." Seeing as Larry was still not convinced, he just said: "Well, make of it what you will."

Larry was silent for a second, as he seemed to be deep in thoughts, which was rather unusual for him. Then, he looked at Phoenix with wet eyes, but differently than before. He appeared genuinely touched.

"Hey, Nick." He sniffed. "I'm glad I asked you to be my lawyer. Really, I am."

Larry came forward and grabbed Phoenix in a bear hug. The defense attorney was a bit startled, but patted him back, as the Butz said:

"Thanks, Nick."

Mia watched this heartwarming scene with a big, big grin on her face. She was so glad. Her student won his first trial, an innocent defendant got acquitted, and a friend saved the other. Could anything be better? Mia doubted it. She only wished her younger sister, Maya, could witness this with her.

After Larry left, free to go home after the dropped charges, Mia walked up to her pupil.

"Phoenix?" She addressed him seriously. Phoenix looked at her, alarmed by her tone. "I hope you see the importance of evidence now. Also, hopefully you realize, things change depending on how you look at them. People, too. We never really know if our clients are guilty or innocent. All we can do is believe in them. And in order to believe in them, you have to believe in yourself."

He listened to her speech, stunned, probably because he didn't expect to hear something so deep out of the blue.

"Phoenix…" Mia put her hand on his right shoulder and fixed her gaze on his face. Something in back of her mind warned her it was important to tell him all of this now, or it would be too late. Mia trusted her hunch and said: "Listen. Learn. Grow strong. Never let go of what you believe in. Never."

Phoenix looked directly into her eyes the entire time, and when she finished, he nodded. He knew that Chief never did or said anything without good reason.

"Well, I think our work here is done!" She suddenly changed the tone, dropping her hand and smiling in a relaxed, friendly way. "Shall we be off?"

"Yeah, I guess so!" Phoenix responded in the same manner.

"Say, how about dinner. On me?" Mia felt Phoenix deserved at least a little celebration. He did extraordinarily well for his first courtroom battle. "We'll drink a toast to innocent Butz! Oh, and speaking of Harry…" Mia remembered something, and her curiosity reawakened. "You were saying part of why you became a lawyer was because of him."

"Er, yeah." Phoenix agreed, with a small eye-roll. "…part, at least."

"You'll have to tell me more about it sometime! Maybe… over drinks?"

She laughed as her teasing caused Phoenix to blush.

* * *

><p>"…it had to be him. He was the one who took the picture. There is no other explanation."<p>

Mia talked to herself while wandering around the office while waiting for Maya to drop by. She was supposed to collect 'The Thinker', containing a vital piece of evidence inside. Thinking aloud was helpful when Mia had difficult decisions to deal with.

"But, what I don't understand is… why would he…" Mia Fey rubbed her chin as she walked by the window, glancing on the street. "Why would **he** do this? Working for that despicable man. I just can't come up with any reason for him to do such a thing. Why, friend? How could you?"

She stopped, hearing the door opening. Mia smiled and turned to the entrance, expecting to see Maya.

But, when she saw who appeared inside the office, her heart stopped beating for a moment.

"W-White…"

"Good evening, Miss Mia." A man in a pink suit flashed his unnaturally white teeth.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

**MIAAA, NOOOO! D':**

**I'm sorry, but since there are no spirit mediums here… this is the last time we see Mia. Life is so unfair!**

**I bet you guys are anxious, if there are there are no spirit mediums… what's gonna happen to Maya?!**

**Don't worry! I left Maya just the way she was. She's still going to wear Japanese clothes (although for very different reasons than in the games), have an obsession with Burgers and be our lovable, fluffy teenage sidekick! I would never take that away.**

**But her goal for the future and backstory are going to be quite different. Some of you might find it interesting, others maybe not. But I'm keeping Maya, Maya, and that's what important!**

**Hurray!**

**Rate, comment, read on and enjoy! Because that's what we're all here for ;)**


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